69: Chapter 69 Purification and Fusion

The dormitory curtains were drawn; Draco sat by the bed, clutching a Potion Class textbook in his hand.

Allen stepped out from the shadows by the wall, the hem of his robes clean.

Draco looked up.

"You're back?"

Allen tucked his blackthorn wand into his sleeve.

"Mm."

"Something happened in the Forbidden Forest. When Hagrid brought Potter and the others back, his expression was terrible."

Allen pulled back the curtains.

"They didn't die."

Draco frowned.

"Is that all you care about?"

Allen glanced at him.

"If they died, the Professor would investigate the Forbidden Forest."

Draco choked on his words.

"What exactly did you go to do?"

"To get some materials."

Draco looked at his clean boots.

"You call the things in the Forbidden Forest materials?"

Allen sat down.

"Go to sleep."

Draco didn't move.

"If Snape asks where you went tomorrow, what should I say?"

Allen closed his eyes.

"I was asleep the whole time."

"You say that every time."

"It works."

Draco cursed under his breath.

"Sooner or later, you'll drag me into trouble."

Allen pressed against the edge of the curtains.

"You're already dragged in."

Draco was silent for a long moment.

"Then you'd better not die out there."

Allen closed the curtains.

"Sleep."

Once the breathing in the dormitory stabilized, Allen raised his blackthorn wand.

"Void."

The Portable Space opened; the Void coiled beside the ebony box, its silver eyes fixed on the glass bottle.

The silver blood in the bottle clung to the glass, with black residue settling at the bottom.

Inside the cage, Peter huddled in the corner, his lips moving incessantly.

Allen walked into the space.

"Be quiet."

Peter pointed at the bottle, then at his throat.

Allen looked toward the cage.

"Want to talk?"

Peter nodded desperately.

The gap in the cage loosened by half an inch.

Peter squeezed out a hoarse voice.

"That is Unicorn blood; you can't drink it."

"I know."

"You don't know. Whoever drinks it will be cursed. Even the Master didn't dare use it recklessly back then; that thing will tether your life, and the price will catch up to you."

Allen placed the bottle in front of the ebony box.

"That's why it needs to be purified."

Peter grabbed the bars.

"It can't be done. The curse and the life force are intertwined; even a Potion Master wouldn't dare separate them."

Allen raised his blackthorn wand.

"How many users of Spatial laws have you seen?"

Peter went silent.

"What exactly are you?"

The Void tapped the outer edge of the cage with its tail.

Peter immediately recoiled.

Allen unscrewed the bottle cap.

"Too many questions."

Peter spoke hurriedly.

"I know who among the Death Eaters has touched this kind of thing, and I know how Lord Voldemort used to handle cursed materials."

"When the time is right, I will let you speak."

"At least don't do it here. If the curse spreads, your space will be contaminated."

Allen looked at the Void.

"Guard the box."

The Void pressed against the lid of the box.

The silver blood hovered half an inch, with tiny black marks entwined within it.

Allen sliced open a narrow gap with his fingertips.

"First layer, isolate the outer edge."

The spatial gap formed a thin ring, supporting the silver blood.

Peter stared at the blob of blood.

"Are you cutting it out from its current position?"

"You have a sharp eye."

Black threads emerged from the edge of the silver blood, crawling along the Spatial Thin Layer, finding no place to land.

Peter pressed against the back wall of the cage.

"It's looking for a living thing."

"Let it look."

The black threads circled halfway, probing toward the cage.

Peter cried out.

"Don't let it come over!"

Allen raised his blackthorn wand.

"Second layer, displacement."

The black threads fell into a blank fold and were folded back near the bottle opening.

Peter gasped for air.

"You wound it back?"

"It has no brain."

"It has hunger."

"That's even better."

Allen brought his blackthorn wand close to the silver blood.

"Death residue to the left, life magic to the right."

The silver blood split into two layers; the upper layer glowed with cold silver, while the black marks in the lower layer sank into the spatial membrane, writhing incessantly.

The blackthorn wand vibrated slightly, and the boundaries of the Portable Space pushed outward.

Inside the ebony box, the cracked pocket watch emitted a blue light.

Allen looked over.

"Don't rush me."

Peter looked up at the box.

"What is that?"

The Void turned back to stare at him.

Peter immediately changed his tone.

"I won't ask."

Allen caught the dark residual liquid with an empty bottle, sealed it, and sent it to the corner of the space.

Peter watched the small bottle.

"You're keeping it?"

"Curses are materials too."

Peter's voice trembled.

"You are even darker than a Dark Wizard."

Allen held up the purified silver blood.

"Dark Wizards would drink themselves to death."

The Void circled Allen, confirming the ebony box wasn't contaminated before stopping at his feet.

Allen looked at the silver liquid.

"Third layer, filter out the echoes of the Killing Curse."

Peter looked up.

"There's still a Killing Curse inside?"

"Left behind by the thing that drank the blood."

Peter shrank back.

"Master."

Allen looked at him.

"You're scared too early."

A few dark threads emerged from the silver blood, leaving only ripples on the Spatial Thin Layer.

The Void opened its mouth to swallow it.

Allen stopped it.

"Don't eat it; this thing touches the soul."

Peter grabbed the bars.

"You can't touch it, you really can't."

Allen raised his hand.

"It can't touch me."

The dark threads struck his chest, snapped half a foot away, and vanished after falling into an independent interlayer.

Peter turned pale.

"How exactly did you do that?"

Allen sealed the last dark thread into a small dark bottle.

"Live a little longer, and you might see the answer."

"I don't want to see."

"Too late."

The silver blood in the glass bottle was reduced to the size of a fingernail; the black marks and the echoes of the Killing Curse had all been stripped away, leaving only pure life magic.

Allen let the silver liquid fall into his palm.

The Void's tail tip touched his sleeve.

Allen said.

"I know there are risks."

Peter spoke hurriedly.

"Then don't absorb it! Sell it, make it into a Potion—anything is better than swallowing it directly."

Allen looked at him.

"You think I'm drinking it?"

Peter froze.

Allen pressed his palm against his chest.

"I'm changing my body's algorithm."

The silver magic was sliced into a thin stream by the Spatial Thin Layer, spreading along his exhausted magic circuits.

Allen steadied himself against the wooden box.

The Void reared up.

Peter watched him nervously.

"Something wrong?"

"Shut up."

The silver magic flowed through his heart, his wrists, and finally fell into the spatial interlayer outside his brow.

The heavy drowsiness was torn away, and his body began to warm up.

Allen looked down at his palm.

"Effective."

Peter stared at him.

"You weren't cursed?"

"The curse is in the bottle."

Peter looked at the small dark bottle in the corner of the space.

"That thing better stay away from me."

"Depends on your behavior."

Peter shut his mouth.

The ebony box vibrated slightly, the blue light of the cracked pocket watch shone through the cracks of the box, and the blackthorn wand responded from within his sleeve.

Allen pressed down on the lid.

"Only absorb the life magic; don't touch the time."

The Void circled to the front of the box, its tail tip pressed against the edge of the lid.

The spatial boundaries began to push outward, the mist receded, and the ground extended.

Allen closed his eyes and listened for a moment.

"One hundred and thirty-two."

Peter looked up.

"What?"

Allen ignored him.

The knuts slid aside on their own, making room for the new boundary.

The Void coiled the glass bottle to a safe place.

"One hundred and thirty-four."

Peter looked at the distant mist.

"This place can still grow?"

Allen opened his eyes.

"It's always growing."

"By you sleeping?"

Allen looked at him.

"By me living."

The blue light converged, the wand stopped vibrating, and the spatial edge pushed out half a step further.

Allen raised his hand to stabilize the boundary.

"One hundred and thirty-five."

The Void pressed against his feet.

Peter stared at him.

"How do you feel now?"

Allen looked at his wrist, then at the top of the space.

"Clear-headed."

"How long can you last?"

Allen walked to the cage.

"More than four hours during the day."

"That's nothing to anyone else."

"It's enough for me."

Peter swallowed hard.

"What are you going to do with these four hours?"

Allen put away the small dark bottle.

"The end of the term is approaching."

Peter understood.

"The Philosopher's Stone?"

"You don't need to know."

Peter said hurriedly.

"Quirrell can't hold on for much longer; the Master will definitely force him to act."

Allen turned around.

"That was useful."

A glimmer of survival lit up in Peter's eyes.

"Then let me talk, I can say more."

The gap in the cage tightened again, and Peter's voice was cut off.

Allen said.

"Wait until I need you."

The Void returned to the side of the ebony box, its silver eyes fixed on the cage.

Allen exited the Portable Space; the dormitory was still quiet.

Outside the curtains, Draco turned over.

"Potter?"

Allen lay back on the bed.

"Not asleep?"

"Were you talking just now?"

"Talking in my sleep."

Draco was silent for a moment.

"You talk in your sleep?"

"Just learned it."

Draco cursed under his breath.

"You really should go to the Hospital Wing."

Allen felt the life magic that hadn't yet dissipated within him; the drowsiness didn't press down on him immediately.

"Wake me up for breakfast tomorrow."

"Are you sure you can get up?"

"Yes."

"If you sleep until Potion Class again, I'm not taking Snape's glares for you."

"Then wake me up earlier."

Draco snorted.

"You'd better remember what you said."

Deep in the Portable Space, the ebony box quieted down, and the cracked pocket watch flashed one last time.

The Void coiled beside the box, its tail tip circling the empty glass bottle.

Peter in the cage sat back in the corner, hugging his knees, even his silent pleading stopped.

Allen opened his eyes and looked at the top of the curtains; the exhaustion in his chest was slowly filled by the silver life magic.

Four hours.

It was enough.